


Once Upon A Christmas Night

by mercscilla



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, LJ Revolution Secret Santa, Post-Season/Series 02, Uncle/Niece Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercscilla/pseuds/mercscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't know why he's still here, the war has been over for months now, just like his relationship with her mom, and Charlie remembers a time when he couldn't wait to get away from her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Christmas Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gizzi1213](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gizzi1213/gifts).



> This story is a [nbc_revolution's](http://nbc-revolution.livejournal.com/) Secret Santa 2014 gift for [gizzi1213](http://gizzi1213.livejournal.com/). She wanted something Christmas-y and Marlie and I promptly fluffed the hell out of that. xD MERRY late CHRISTMAS, G-GIRL! <3

It's the sound of the lock clicking and the door swinging open that wakes her. For a heartbeat Charlie fears it's an intruder but then muffled cursing echoes in her room as the person stumbles into the trunk at the feet of her bed and she relaxes, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards in a sleepy smile.

“Miles?”

“Christ, Charlie! Don't scare me like that.”

“Says the one who's sneaking around my room in the middle of the night without trying to make a sound.”

“I'm not 'sneaking around'.” Her smile widens as he mutters something else under his breath and lights one of her lamps before setting it down on the trunk.

“What are you doing then? Playing Santa?” She squints at him and shakes her head a little mock-sadly. “Or are you lost again?”

Miles raises his head and even in the dim light she can make out his narrowed eyes. “Once, Charlie, that happened once. And it was all Bass' fault anyway.”

“So, Santa is it then.” She pushes back the covers and sits up, shivering slightly as the chilly air hits her bare arms. “And why is Santa not–sneaking around my room?”

The glare morphs into a grin and his eyes are twinkling as he pulls a few clothes from the trunk. “I want to show you something.”

“Now?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, and Miles rolls his eyes. “Yes, now.” He reaches out and begins to tug the blanket off of her. “C'mon, Charlie.”

She tries to snatch the cover back but he bats her hands away and instead pushes the bundle of clothes into her arms. “Put your coat on when you're dressed. We're going outside.”

“Outside...?” Charlie drops her clothes on the bed and reaches out, her fingers wrapping around Miles' wrist. “Miles, what's going on? Can't it wait till tomorrow?”

There's a beat, and then he sighs. Turning his hand until his fingers are entwined with hers, he gives them a gentle squeeze. “It can't,” Miles says quietly, almost pleading with her. “Please, Charlie? Just...come with me and you will see.” The look on his face is steady and strangely intense, and when Charlie shivers this time, it's not from the cold air.

“Okay,” she finally relents. “Give me a minute?”

A slow grin steals its way across Miles' face and he squeezes her hand again before letting go. “I'll wait outside.”

He's out of the door before she has the chance to reply and her eyebrows creases in a thoughtful little frown as she looks after him. While she gets dressed, she can't help but wondering what the hell this is all about.

When she steps onto the porch of her grandfather's house, she finds Miles sitting on the steps, a backpack at his feet. He stands up as she approaches and slings the backpack over his shoulder.

“Ready?”

She nods and pulls her scarf tighter around her face. Winter these days is really cold but the nights are sometimes close to freezing. At least the beautiful sight of the winter wonderland, covered in fluffy and sparkling snow, makes up for it most of the time.

“Where are we going?” She can't help but ask as they walk towards the east gate. There isn't much to find outside their little town during the winter and even the hunters only venture into the woods when it's absolutely necessary. What on Earth could be out there for them?

“You will see.” Miles echoes his words from before and Charlie fights the urge to sigh. “You're not going to tell me until we're there, are you?”

A smirk is all she gets as an answer, typical Miles, and she shakes her head in quiet amusement. They fall into companionable silence and Charlie uses the opportunity to study Miles from the corner of her eyes.

She doesn't know why he's still here, the war has been over for months now, just like his relationship with her mom, and Charlie remembers a time when he couldn't wait to get away from her, when he let her go with nothing more than a hug and a pat on the shoulder, but these days he's constantly around, and she has yet to find out why he hasn't left.

He looks relaxed, and sometimes, when he, Bass and her grandpa sit in the living room and swap stories of the Old Times and she's listening in rapt fascination, she thinks he even looks content, almost happy.

“You're not falling asleep, are you?” Miles' amused voice startles her so much that she misses a step and almost slips on the icy ground, and it's only his hand on her arm that saves her from falling. “Careful there, Charlie.”

He waits until she's found her balance before letting go of her but instead of stepping away he leans down and peers at her face, his own creased in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm good.” _Just completely embarrassed_ , Charlie thinks, and the thought must show on her face too, at least judging by the smirk that's playing around the corners of Miles' mouth.

“We're almost there,” he offers, and starts walking again. “Try to stay awake that long, okay?”

“Very funny, Miles,” she says to his back, and following a sudden impulse, picks up a handful of snow, forms a ball and throws it.

“Hey!”

“What?” Her look is all innocence as she meets his half–hearted glare. “You told me to stay awake. Walking is tiring. A snowball fight isn't.”

“Very funny, Charlie.” Shaking his head, Miles dislodges the tiny snowflakes that have collected in his hair. “I'm going to let it go this time but don't think I'm forgetting about it. I'll get back at you.”

She'd answer but her mouth has gone dry at the look he's sending her, full of something she can't name but that sets her heart racing and the hair at the nape of her neck on end.

Miles holds her eyes for a moment longer before turning back to the road and she takes a deep breath and lets it out. Then another. When she finally has her pulse under control again, Charlie follows him slowly, unable to shake off the feeling that if she were to look closely at his reason for staying she wouldn't have to look very far.

They continue to walk in silence, and this time, Charlie keeps her eyes firmly on the ground, even though she can feels Miles glancing at her every once in a while – and unlike her, he doesn't try to do it furtively.

She's more than just a little relieved when he finally announces they've arrived at their destination and she raises her head, ready to ask him if he's now going to tell her what's going on, but the words die in her throat, unsaid, because all she can do is stare at the sight before her.

By day, the small pond already presents a beautiful picture but now, at night and with moonlight shining down on its frozen surface, it is simply breathtaking, and yet, it's not the pond that's stealing her breath. It is the sight of Miles kneeling on its edge, pulling something from the backpack that she knows all to well, something that lets the tight feeling in her chest grow and has her looking at him wide eyes.

The skates he's holding are a far cry from the pretty red ones, her very first pair of skates, he gave her that Christmas all those years ago but Charlie doesn't care – because it's not about the skates but what they actually stand for.

“You'd been asking for them all year but Rachel was going with ballet, and I–“ He breaks off and glances out across the pond. “You sounded so sad when you told me over the phone and I promised myself then and there, I would do anything to make you happy. And then, when you unwrapped them and looked at me with so much joy, so much love–“

He swallows, his gaze finding hers again as he gets to his feet. “I know I screwed up, didn't keep that promise, but I want to try again, Charlie.” He slowly steps towards her until he's so close she can see that strange heat flickering behind his eyes again and it ratchets up the tension coursing through her already.

“Merry Christmas, Charlie.”

She looks from him to the skates and back again, her mind whirling in circles, and she can barely get the words past the heart in her throat. “What haven't you left yet, Miles?”

“You know why.” Miles smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes – the look in them is far too intense for that – and then takes another step and the warmth of his body envelops hers.

“It's you, Charlie, it has always been you,” he admits quietly, running the backs of his fingers over her cheek gently, and her lips part, but she doesn't know what to say, too stunned by the revelation, even though she's suspected it all along if she's honest with herself.

He takes her silence as rejection, his smile turning bitter, and then he's pulling back from her – physically and emotionally. “I'm sorry– I don't– I thought you felt–“

A tense sort of panic prickles across her skin – because she _is_ feeling the same way, has felt so since their first meeting and it's not nothing, it is _everything_ – and Charlie reaches up, slides her fingers over the nape of his neck and pulls his face down.

“Miles,” she murmurs against his mouth, her lips brushing his as she shapes the word, and then the skates are hitting the snow with a dull sound as he laces his fingers through her hair and presses his mouth against hers with a low groan.

It is _everything_ – and then so much more.

Heat rushes through her as she melts against him, the world around them forgotten as she kisses him back with equal fervor, moaning softly when one of his hands slides over her shoulder down her back to settle on her hip, pulling her even closer.

When they finally break apart, her heart's pounding, echoing in her ears with every heartbeat. Miles doesn't let her draw back far, curls his fingers almost possessively around the back of her neck as he stares down at her, eyes hooded and heavy.

“Charlie,” he says, his voice a low murmur that winds its way down her spine in a slow shiver and has her aching into him. His grip on her tightens, a look of raw hunger flaring across his face, and then he's pressing his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he exhales slowly, his breath warm against her skin. “Are you sure?”

He's giving her an out – she could step back and they would never mention it again – and she knows it would be the right decision, but there's a part of her – some selfish dark part – that doesn't give a damn about right or wrong. They've given so much of themselves to the world, now they're going to take something for themselves and keep it.

“I am,” she replies quietly, and when he opens his eyes, the look in them isn't soft but edging towards fierce. He leans up to press his lips hard against her forehead before tugging her into an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her, and she goes willingly, lays her cheek on his shoulder and relaxes into him.

It won't be easy, the world won't understand and won't accept that there's nothing platonic about their feelings for each other, but then again when have they ever taken the easy way out? Maybe if things had been different, they could simply be uncle and niece but somehow Charlie doubts it.

She wants nothing more than to stay wrapped in his arms but the coldness of the winter night is harsh, relentlessly finding its way past the many layers of her clothes, and if they don't want to turn into icicles, they have to move.

Reluctantly, she untangles herself from Miles but just as she's about to step out of his arms, he stops her, his hands sure on her waist. When he lowers his face towards hers again, Charlie meets him half-way, and his kiss this time is slower but leaves her just as breathless as the first one, maybe even more so because this isn't just lust but goes far deeper than that.

Feeling shy all of the sudden, she ducks her head, hoping the shadows of the night will hide the light flush colouring her cheeks, and hears him chuckle.

“C'mon, let's try out your skates before I freeze my b...eautiful nose off.”

A soft huff of laughter escapes her before she can stifle it and Miles grins down at her, dropping his hands from her waist to let her finally step away. Charlie picks up the skates and sits down on a nearby rock to put them on, and she's not all surprised to find them a perfect fit.

When Miles helps her onto the ice, holding her steady until she's found her balance, and then watches her skating in circles and figure eights, looking at her as if _she_ is his light in the dark world, Charlie feels a sense of relief and more at ease than she has for a long time.

For her, it has always been Miles too.


End file.
